


Solace

by BlueLotus



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:31:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLotus/pseuds/BlueLotus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, for the best part of two thirds of his life, Face has been drinking, but he refuses to think that makes him an alcoholic."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> LJ A-Team kink meme prompt fill.

_(A/N.. tonnes of thanks to[Indigo_Angels](http://indigo-angels.livejournal.com/) for all her help on this :D )_

~~~ 

Face can't remember the first time he sampled alcohol. He thinks, if he tries hard enough, it might've been the red wine they used at mass in the orphanage, secretly appropriated for probably nefarious reasons... Young Templeton Peck wasn't exactly a saint as a kid.

He does remember the first taste of hard liquor though. And that's a memory he's prayed to forget, without much success, ever since.

Foster home number... hell, Face doesn't know, doesn't care. The dad was never home, the mom was always drunk, and Templeton, as much as he tried to be the good little boy they wanted, was always being punished.

It was one particular incident that sent him straight to the bottle. Face wasn't quite twelve. He still remembers even now that after what the mom had done to him, he didn't even think, or hesitate, he'd just grabbed the ever present bottle of vodka and gulped it down.

Of course he was sick quickly afterwards... imbibing nearly a litre of 40% proof alcohol in one go at the tender age of eleven wasn't the brightest of things to do, but Face didn't care.

Thinking back now, Face realises he was damned lucky he didn't die of alcohol poisoning.

Incredulously, the mom wasn't even mad that he'd just wasted her precious booze, either. She'd just salaciously winked at him and laughed.

Those memories still make Face's skin crawl. The foster parents were arrested for child molestation soon after Face had left them, when the woman had tried to rape a four year old. 

But, that didn't stop him drinking. No way. 

If anything, that incident taught him that he could have a few moments of peace when his head swam in the euphoric haze of alcohol, and although he didn't do it often, Face did find himself hidden in the basement of the orphanage, or sometimes sneaking outside, for an hour or two, his only companion a bottle of whatever he could lay his hands on.

But now, Face enjoys a social drink with friends, enjoys sharing an intimate bottle of wine with a beautiful lady... And he _really_ enjoys getting completely shit faced to the point of amnesia with good pals.

And why not? It's not as if he's sneaking around anymore.

So, for the best part of two thirds of his life, Face has been drinking, but he refuses to think that makes him an alcoholic.

~

When his relationship with Charisa Sosa ended, Face broke his own personal best drinking record, drowning his anger, bitterness and sorrows in a lethal concoction of whatever was in the apartment.

The breakup was explosive. Awful, vicious, nasty... 

Face can't remember one sole reason _why_ they'd split, but he does remember snatches of the argument. Things, truly horrible things that were said, things they accused each other of... 

It makes him cringe still.

The team was on a two week leave, and Charisa had left him half way through, taking everything but the bed and booze with her, and Face, angry beyond rational thought, had slammed the door shut behind her, screamed curses through the window at her retreating taxi, and then stormed straight into the kitchen and into a bottle of whiskey.

It was three days later that Hannibal found Face unconscious, lying in his own vomit and filth, and wrapped around the toilet bowl.

Face knows this because Hannibal had been so angry and scared, that he'd spent the next few days never anymore than a few feet away from him, nursing his motherfucker of a hangover and fragile psyche back to health.

And then he'd chewed his ass out for nearly killing himself by drinking so much - alone!

Face licks the salt off his hand and knocks back a double tequila, wincing as the sour taste assaults his taste buds, and lets the memory drift in... 

_"Whiskey? Vodka? Gin?" Hannibal shouted wide eyed and looking pissed beyond anger. "What the hell were you thinking, Face?"_

_"I-"_

_"You weren't! You mix this stuff and it's fucking lethal!" the colonel finished, throwing another empty bottle into a trash bag he had in a grip that made his knuckles chalk white. The sound of smashing glass rang painfully through Face's still delicate head. "You're just damned lucky you puked up most of the fuckin' stuff!"_

_Face sighed and rubbed his eyes, wincing when another bottle shattered. He knew Hannibal was right, but his heart still hurt, and he just couldn't make himself care._

_Eventually Hannibal calmed a little and sighed. It had apparently scared the shit out of him to find Face like that, looking like death warmed over. Face knew Hannibal never really liked Sosa, he didn't know _why_ , but had tolerated her for him, because, Face assumed, she seemed to make him happy. But this... Face could see the man was absolutely furious. Whether it was with him, or Charisa, he wasn't really sure._

_He couldn't quite read the emotions playing on Hannibal's face, and so silently watched him mechanically move about the apartment picking up empty bottles before tying the bag and dumping it by the door, Hannibal then turned and sat on the sofa by Face, keeping a respectable space between them. "You okay, kid?"_

_It was a lame question, and Face was far from okay, but the silence was consuming them._

_"Yeah, thanks boss," Face murmured softly, his eyes never leaving the floor._

_"Come on," Hannibal urged after a moment with a gentle tug, and Face let the colonel drag him to his feet, the same blank, faraway expression not changing even when Hannibal eventually sat him in his jeep, throwing Face's packed holdall in after him._

_The ride to Hannibal's house was a blur to Face, until they arrived and he was handed over to Murdock._

Face remembers late night talks about cartoon characters and coloured jello, and midnight feasts of cake frosting and ham with Murdock, and very little else. Whatever the pilot had said about his ill fated relationship with Sosa had apparently worked, because when their leave was up, Face was his old self again and was looking forward to the next mission.

A moment, he remembers with a grim smile, he'd celebrated in his bunk late at night, alone with a bottle of Johnny Walker he'd stealthily liberated from Morrison's aide.

The mission had been a success, and the team went through six kegs of beer that weekend.

All Face can successfully recall from that time was that Hannibal had been unusually, but pleasantly more tactile with him. Lingering pats on the back, warm palms on Face's neck... As drunk as he was, as they all were that weekend, Face remembered that.

And for a while he remembers drawing strength on that warmth, instead of his trusty friends Jack, Johnny, Jim and Jose (when he could get limes, because drinking tequila _without_ lime and salt was a crime).

When days turned to weeks, and Sosa didn't come back to him, Face let their apartment go and moved back to his base quarters, spending his spare time with Hannibal and the guys, a deck of cards and warm Buds.

He smiles at the memory, short lived but cherished, and then frowns into his shot glass, knocks back the tequila, and closes his eyes.

~

Face can't really remember what he'd done wrong, what he'd done to alienate Hannibal to eventually stop all the comforting, or friendly touches.

After Sosa had left him, he'd felt vulnerable, and he'd hated it. In his life there were very few people he'd ever opened his heart to, and Sosa was one of them.

He thought she'd loved him, just as much as he found he loved her. At first that scared him, but she was everything to him. He could even see a future with her... house, dog, kids... 

His self confidence was knocked. Badly. Would he ever find anyone again? Would anyone _ever_ want him...?

The one person Face truly loved with all his heart was the one person he could never have, so he filled in the void left gaping wide by unrequited love and Charisa Sosa by having meaningless sex with nameless, faceless people, and just enough alcohol help dull his mind. 

Face didn't care if his next shag was a pretty girl, or a charming man. As long as he could get them into his bed, he found a few moments solace in the warm body he was fucking, before drowning the fact that he couldn't even remember him, or her, afterwards in whatever drink he had on hand.

And then he'd return to the base, and pretend everything was A-okay, because it was. And that made it a little easier to cope with the growing distance between him and Hannibal.

~

The lime stings a little and Face licks his lips, pouring another shot of tequila as he does so, sighing as the glass spills over...

The missions came and went, and the team kicked ass as they always did. And with each successful result, the team celebrated together, drinking beer and toasting another job well done.

Face still noticed the standoffish way Hannibal was with him, but with a gut full of beer, it didn't matter, he could smile and laugh at Murdock's silly jokes and not think about it.

That spilled into everyday life though, and Face, once again, found himself hiding in dark storerooms, or driving far away from his team quarters for an hour or two, his only companion a bottle of whatever he could lay his hands on.

It was the only way he knew how to get his head together. One little drink, and he was back on top form. So proven as each time he returned, huge carefree smile firmly in place, Face easily took on whatever life threw at him. 

Unfortunately his team noticed the trace of alcohol on his breath, seeping out of his pores... and called him on it...

_"You been drinkin', kid?" Hannibal frowned when his XO stood up and Hannibal caught a whiff of something sweet and familiar. Face shook his head._

_"What? No. Don't be stupid," Face grumbled, put out that his CO would actually think he would drink on the job._

_He'd only had one... and that was two hours ago. It didn't even count!_

_He poured himself more coffee anyway and sat back down, trying not to notice Murdock and BA watching him, too._

_"I know, it's that new sun lotion you got last week, ain't it, Facey?" Murdock grinned. Face blinked confused. "You know... what was it? Some girly flavour... passion fruit an' coconut?"_

_BA snorted._

_"Shut up, Murdock," Face grinned back. So? He liked coconut, smelled coconutty._

_The pilot leaned in close and sniffed him. "Hmmmmmm... Coconutty...." he drawled._

_Hannibal blew out a breath and chewed on the unlit cigar in his mouth for a moment. No, his XO didn't just smell like coconut. More like whiskey. He flashed a disappointed look at Face and carried on the mission brief._

_Face sighed into his coffee feeling those tendrils of self doubt tighten in his belly. And as soon as the brief was over, he quickly disappeared under the pretence of procuring items on the list Hannibal had given him, and added a speedy shot of vodka and two packs of gum._

Another tequila down, another on the way... He looks up at the clear night sky and frowns when his memories _still_ fill his head.

~

The odd finger of alcohol became the norm after a short while. Face remembers how it helped with the pain of rejection every time he smiled at Hannibal, and received a frown in return. Not only that, he'd started to hear more rumours around the base about the two of them... more than usual, and after trying to laugh them off with Hannibal, Face had taken comfort from a half bottle of gin.

At one time, Hannibal would have laughed the rumours off too, but this time he'd snapped at Face, telling him to stop being stupid, rumours like that could get him beaten to death.

Life was difficult enough for a Ranger, a soldier in a war zone, with the reality of being killed at anytime, but soldiers coped because they had the support from their comrades in arms, their CO's... family...

Face didn't feel he had that anymore, and he found himself sneaking a drink whenever he could to pull himself together, because the one thing he didn't want to do was let his team down because of the emotional fuck-up he was.

~

And so here Face sits alone under the stars, with his lime wedges and salt cellar he's borrowed from the mess, and sighs as he upturns the bottle of tequila and nothing pours out.

"Shit."

Deciding he's had enough anyway, Face stands and falls back down on his ass with a thump. It's nearly light and the team has a mission at ten hundred, brief before that... and he moans pitifully into his hands.

He can already feel the lethal effects of a tequila hangover grip his head and stomach, and in a pathetic (and maybe desperate) attempt to stop it, Face shoves his fingers down his throat.

The alcohol burns on the way back out, but it's really too late for that, he's drunk. Well and truly shit face drunk, and he knows through the haze in his mind that Hannibal is going to _kill_ him.

Not that he can really make himself care right now.

Staggering back to the base, Face finds the nearest mess tent, grabs an armful of bottled water, and then stumbles into the closest wash facilities and stands under a cold shower, trying to drink as much water as he can keep down.

An hour later, red eyed and fairly sober, Face returns to his bunk to change before hitting the mess for breakfast like he does every morning.

But this time his efforts are all for nothing.

Hannibal smells the alcohol on Face as soon as he gets within three feet of him.

"Face," he barks and Face scolds his fingers on the coffee he's holding too tightly. 

"Boss?"

"Outside."

Face swallows at the harsh tone, but slowly rises and follows his CO outside.

"You're off the mission," he says quietly, anger laced in his tight voice.

"What?" What is Hannibal talking about? Off the mission? He can't pull him off the mission! "Hannibal-"

But before Face can object, a large fist grabs his collar and yanks him close. Face stills as Hannibal sticks his face against his neck and sniffs.

"You're fucking drunk!" he hisses and shoves him away. "What the _fuck_ is goin' on with you!?"

Face bristles and jerkily straightens his collar. "I am not drunk, boss," he grates out, and frowns when a passing corporal flashes him an odd look. "Okay, so I had a few last night... but that's no reason to pull me off the mission!"

"A few? You smell like a fuckin' brewery, lieutenant!" Hannibal pulls himself to his full height and scowls at Face. "Go sleep it off, Face," he grunts disappointed. "We'll carry this on when I get back."

Face watches his CO storm away with a heavy heart, and turns in the opposite direction, heading back to his bunk, and his old friends he keeps well hidden from prying eyes.

Just one more and he'll be okay... he'll be ready for Hannibal's little chat...

~

The chat never comes. Hannibal spends the night in medical with a concussion, and Murdock and BA scowl hard at Face when he finds them.

"I just heard," he rushes out breathlessly. "What the fuck happened?"

"What the fuck happened? You're what the fuck happened," BA growls and storms out of the tent, deliberately knocking into Face.

"Murdock?"

"You shoulda' been there, Facey," the pilot says softly. "Why weren't you there?"

Face sits down on the bunk opposite Murdock and rubs a hand over his face. He has no answer for that. He should've been there, Murdock is right.

"It was a grenade," Murdock mumbles and takes off his cap, wrings it in his hands. "We were one man short, no one to cover the left flank. No one saw him."

Fuck. "But he's gonna be okay, right?" Face asks and blinks when Murdock fixes him with an angry stare.

"No thanks to you, Face." He looks away again and yanks his cap back on. "So, who was it this time? Johnny? Jack? Jose? All of 'em?"

"Murdock-"

Sighing sadly, the pilot shakes his head. "Don't, Facey," he murmurs and silently leaves Face to his thoughts.

Tears spike his lashes and Face angrily swipes them away. It wasn't his fault... He should have gone on that mission, he wasn't drunk! It wasn't his fault!

Was it?

He thinks of Hannibal in Medical and the tears fall freely and Face lets them come.

He knows he's to blame, and it's right that the team blame him. He has to get himself together, get his head sorted. He's _not_ an alcoholic, for fucks sake. He can stop anytime he wants. He can handle his drinking! Sometimes he just needs a little pick-me-up. That's all... Who doesn't? Here in Iraq, in this hot-as-hell shit hole...

Face blows out a breath and frowns at himself. He doesn't need to justify what he does to anyone. It's his business, and he quietly heads back to his quarters and seeks solace in the bottle once more.

~

Face doesn't come to see Hannibal in Medical, and the colonel feels his absence painfully. After everything the boy has done, he still loves him. Is still in love with him... And it breaks his heart to see him do this to himself.

Oh, Hannibal isn't stupid, he knows Face drinks, but who doesn't? It's not exactly a picnic here in Iraq.

After Sosa left him, Hannibal saw an escalation in Face's drinking, but chose not to say anything because as quick as that started, it seemed to finish.

He still remembers vividly how much it scared him to see Face like that, he'd drunk so much, and all because of _her_. Hannibal had barely tolerated the woman, and only for Face's sake. He just wanted to see his boy happy.

And for a time he was. Very happy.

It didn't stop him from being insanely jealous though. And it tore him up inside to see Face so miserable and depressed, knowing that all he could do was try to offer a supportive shoulder to cry on, when he really wanted to hold Face, tell him that he wasn't alone, that _he_ loved him.

But he couldn't do that. He was Face's CO, not to mention he was a man, and Face was straight. 

He truly didn't know how to help the kid, without compromising his own secret, forbidden feelings towards him, and reluctantly, with a heavy heart, Hannibal handed Face over to Murdock and prayed the pilot could do what he couldn't.

After that for a while, it was better. Face was happy again. Hannibal noticed he was drinking less, and spending more time with the team, and with him. 

But then he started to hear the sordid rumours about them around base, and Hannibal was terrified that Face would be targeted because of the extra attention he had started giving him, so he'd backed off.

Unfortunately, he noticed Face took that badly and much to Hannibal's concern and misery, he started playing the field again. A lot. He'd hook up with anything pretty as often as he could, and always staggered home smelling of sex, smoke and alcohol in the early hours of the morning.

The colonel found it hard to watch, and slowly began to withdraw his affection towards his boy even more, his own heart aching each time he saw Face flirt with someone different.

The final twist in the gut came when Hannibal accidently caught sight of his boy in a bar across the city. The colonel had gone there to escape the inevitable crushing feeling he got every time he saw Face return after a night out, looking exhausted and ...well, fucked.

He never expected to see the kid there though... not in _that_ bar. It was a place for men like Hannibal. For men who enjoyed the company of other men.

Hannibal hid himself in the dark edges of the place and watched miserably as Face worked his magic, and within a few minutes his XO was walking away with a man, older than Face but ruggedly handsome, one hand possessively on the guys ass, the other knocking back what looked like a double whiskey. 

Not looking back, Hannibal had left the bar quickly and quietly.

Things escalated from there. Face seemed to disappear from time to time, returning smelling of minty gum and with a renewed confident smile. And Hannibal quietly seethed because he hated what Face was doing to himself, and hated himself because he was partly to blame.

It was tearing the team apart. 

~

It's dark when Hannibal is released and cleared for duty, and he immediately makes his way to Face's base quarters.

He needs to know for sure what's going on with him...

What he finds when he gets there is a stark echo of what he found when Sosa had left.

"Shit," he hisses, steps his way into the small bathroom and see's Face unconscious on the floor on his back. "Face? Can you hear me?"

The place stinks of booze. Whiskey, mainly, but Hannibal sees empty bottles of vodka and gin littering the floor too. He pries open an eyelid and sees an alcohol induced unfocused eye rolling back.

"Face! Kid, c'mon," Hannibal tries again, worry worsening as he mentally calculates just how much the kid has drunk.

"God, why, kid? Why do this to yourself?" He hoists Face up and drapes him over his shoulder, carrying the dead weight back to his bed.

As soon as Face's back hits the mattress though, his body spasms and he vomits, choking when the alcohol and bile runs back down his throat.

"Fuck!" Hannibal grates and yanks Face onto his side, his hand immediately holding the kid's mouth open as Face struggles to gasp through bouts of retching. "Breathe, kid, breathe..."

Face never wakes up, and grows quiet again when his body relaxes, and Hannibal's heart constricts painfully when he suddenly realises that if he hadn't been there, Face could've choked to death on his own vomit.

He rubs a shaky hand over Face's clammy skin. "This has gotta stop, kid," he says and swallows hard.

~

Morning finds Face clean and warmly tucked up in his own bed, and he opens his eyes confused. The headache hits him instantly and even before a moan leaves his lips, a glass of water and two Tylenol appear in front of his face. 

"Drink it all, kid, you need the rehydration," Hannibal murmurs from his side. Face carefully sits up, takes the pills and finishes the glass, sighing when his head stops pounding slightly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Face mumbles and closes his eyes. He quickly opens them when he feels a warm hand grab his and hold it. His heart misses a beat and he curls his fingers around Hannibal's.

"You coulda' died, kid," Hannibal says softly. He looks up and Face is horrified to see tears in Hannibal's eyes. "Why'd you drink so much?"

Face licks his lips and swallows. He can't answer that. Because he's an emotional fuck up? He let the team down and Hannibal got hurt? No one wants him? He can't even work a relationship? He can't cope with the simplest of things without a little 'Dutch courage'? The list is endless.

He asks if Hannibal is alright instead.

"Yeah, kid, I'm fine, but you didn't answer my question," Hannibal smiles sadly.

Face pulls his hand back and frowns. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I let you down, boss. It won't happen again."

"Won't it?"

"No!" Face states a little frustrated. "I shoulda' been on that mission, anyway-"

"Face, you were drunk!" Hannibal cuts him off and stares at him hard.

"I was not," Face denies and turns away, unable to look Hannibal in the eyes. He hears the man sigh heavily.

"Look, Face, this is a serious problem." 

Face snaps his eyes up. "Hannibal, I-"

"No, listen to me," Hannibal holds his hand up and Face quietens. " _You_ have a serious drinking problem."

The statement is said so carefully and deliberately that the words hit Face hard, and he surges out of bed and stands rigidly, glaring at Hannibal.

"Face-"

"No, no..." Face grates through his teeth, "I don't have a... drinking problem! That's absurd!" The desperate laugh sounds all wrong and Face spins away from Hannibal's accusing stare, stumbling dizzily when his head swims.

Hannibal is there in two seconds, hands poised to help, but Face jerks away.

"Don't touch me!" he shouts and falls against the dresser. He lifts a finger and narrows his eyes, hissing again, "I don't have a drinking problem, Hannibal."

Sighing, Hannibal sits on the bed. "Can you tell me why you just drank enough alcohol to drown a platoon then, kid?"

"None of your fucking business," Face mumbles as he pulls himself upright. What has it got to do with Hannibal how much he drinks? He knows what he's doing. He can handle his drink.

"You're wrong, lieutenant," Hannibal says and the use of his rank makes Face look at him. "You compromised the team, the mission..."

The quietly spoken words hit home, and Face closes his eyes and tries to block out what Hannibal is saying. He doesn't want to hear that he's off the team, that he's a fuck up, a liability, no use to them anymore... that Hannibal is disappointed in him, that he doesn't want anything more to do with him...

He feels the prickle of tears behind his eyes and blindly feels his way along the dresser and the wall to his bathroom, hoping he'll get there before his whole world crashes around him.

"Face, please..." Hannibal's voice permeates the fog of desolation trying to consume him, and Face quickly slips through the door.

"Face, let me help you. Please," Hannibal says and the anguish in his voice cuts deep, and Face looks up.

"Why the hell d'you wanna help? What do you even care anymore?" he asks dully and closes the door.

Hannibal just stares, his heart breaking at the pain in Face's voice, and answers, his voice hitching as he thinks it won't make any difference, "I care, Face, because I love you."

~

The air in the bathroom disappears and Face gasps. Had he just heard right? 

No, he couldn't have. Hannibal is disappointed in him. Thinks he's an alcoholic, has a problem, is a fuck up... Face thinks Hannibal wants him off the team.

No way could he ever love him.

Could he?

Face is so confused right now. The tequila doesn't help when he tries to think of any clue Hannibal has given him that he does... love him, all he can remember is the pain and heartache of the last few weeks. The judgemental stares, the frowns, and mostly the painful lack of affection.

Not that Face would ever admit to wanting that affection from Hannibal. Not out loud, anyway. But inside his heart he craves it. He loves Hannibal, has done for a very long time, but knows the man will never return that love.

Or thought he knew?

Fuck, Face is _so_ confused. He's not sure anymore that Hannibal even likes him, let alone loves him. 

Face stops and rubs a rough hand over his face. He thinks about the half bottle of Jack hidden under his kitchen sink and wishes for a second he could have a finger or two, just enough to clear his head, help him think straight, make the heartache go away... and that thought stops Face in his tracks.

The dawn of realisation wrenches his gut tightly and he physically jerks to the toilet bowl, vomiting up the water he'd drunk earlier.

~

Hannibal sits on Face's unmade bed and stares at the bathroom door. He hears his boy throwing up and winces, wanting so badly to go and help him, comfort him, but knowing he wouldn't be welcome.

_"What do you even care anymore?"_

The words echo around his head and Hannibal swallows hard and absently wipes away tears he didn't realise were rolling down his cheeks.

What has he done? 

Hannibal tries to make sense of it, why Face thinks he doesn't care, and he hangs his head in shame. He knows... he pushed Face away. His own stupid cowardice, carelessness... 

And now, he's lost his beautiful boy for good. He should have kept his mouth shut, never should have told Face he loved him.

What must the kid think of him now?

Pathetic. Because he was.

But he _does_ love Face, with all his heart... is completely head over heels in love with him, and it's killing Hannibal.

Seeing Face every day, wanting so much to just reach out and touch him, pull him in close and feel his body close to his... Hell, just to be able to smile at the kid and have him smile back, without fear of someone seeing and making the wrong assumptions.

But they'd be the right assumptions, because Hannibal is finding it harder and harder to hide what he feels for Face.

Hannibal feels he's to blame for what Face is doing to himself, and even if the kid hates his guts now, Hannibal decides he's going to be there for him... help him get a grip with his drinking.

~

Time ticks by slowly, and Face doesn't know how long he sits on the bathroom floor. His headache has eased a little, and the cold reality of life is starting to weigh heavily, and he frowns miserably when the idea of a double whiskey straight up sounds like heaven right now.

And he finally admits to himself that maybe he does have a problem.

But it's too late.

He's alienated his team, Hannibal surely wants him out of his life. What he thought he heard... he has to be wrong. Wishful thinking... the alcohol playing cruel tricks on him...

It's been so quiet in his quarters for so long that Face thinks that Hannibal has already left. Probably to go start the paperwork for his transfer off the team. And he doesn't blame him. Not one little bit. He thinks Hannibal is better off without him in his life, anyway. They all are.

So when Face slowly opens the door and sees Hannibal sitting quietly on his bed, he stops and stares.

"I know you probably want me to leave, kid," Hannibal says softly in the thick quiet, "But I'm not. I'm not leaving you."

Face blinks and silently reaches for the glass of water the man offers him, sitting on the edge of the bed. He doesn't know what to say, what to think.

Hannibal didn't leave him.

A small bubble of hope flutters in his chest and Face looks at Hannibal, really looks at him, and thinks maybe he _did_ hear right...

"Did... um..." He bites his lips. "What... what did you say?"

Cocking his head slightly, Hannibal repeats, "I said I'm not leaving you, Face."

Pursing his lips, Face shakes his head. "No, I meant before," he corrects. "John, you... love me?"

A soft blush colours Hannibal's cheeks and Face can't help a small smile. The colonel shrugs and nods, admitting that yes, he does love him.

His eyes tell Face that Hannibal loves him more than words can say, and his heart skips a beat before thumping wildly behind his ribcage.

All Face's repressed feelings for this man, the one person Face truly loved with all his heart and the one person he thought he could never have, suddenly fill his entire being and he smiles, his eyes shining brightly with unshed tears. 

Hannibal gasps softly at the look of pure love on his beautiful boy's face, and he gently pulls Face in to a hug, his large hands gripping tightly, afraid that if he lets go, Face will disappear.

"I want to help, Tem, please let me help you," he whispers, emotions breaking his voice a little, and his heart bursts with relief, and pride, when he feels Face nod against his neck.

It's a first step.

~

_A week later..._

"Hey, Murdock, toss me another can," Face shouts from the table in Hannibal's kitchen. Murdock smiles and grabs himself and Face another can of diet Pepsi each. 

Hannibal watches his boy proudly as Face opens the soft carbonated drink and gulps down a healthy amount, belching as the gas hits him.

The day after he'd told Face he loved him, and Face had repeated the same back to him, the kid had swept through his quarters and disposed of every drop of alcohol in the place. He'd decided that he was going to stop drinking. Altogether. 

Hannibal's heart is still swelled with joy because Face had told him that he didn't need the alcohol, he just needed him.

A day later though, and Face was struggling. Hannibal had expected it... as in any addiction, withdrawal was inevitable. And he'd held Face as the kid had argued and fought his way through it.

_"I know I have a problem, but I don't think I can do this, Hannibal," Face admitted wretchedly. Hannibal smoothed the caramel curls from Face's sweaty forehead and kissed it._

_"You_ can _do this, love," he murmured. "And I'll help you through it. Every step of the way."_

_Face pulled away from Hannibal shaking his head. The action made him nauseous and he groaned. The memories of what he was like when he'd had a drink assaulted his mind... Brash, cocky, like life was a breeze, uncaring... It was all a facade, all false. He'd merely been existing, and he_ did not _like the person he was when he drank._

_But it was all he knew. For as long as Face could remember, he'd drink just to help him cope._

_"I'm not strong enough to cope without it," he swallowed hard admitting his fears, and Hannibal pulled Face back into his arms and held tight._

_"No, love, you_ are _strong enough. You're the strongest person I know, and you will cope." He cupped Face's cheeks and held his gaze hard. "You can do this, baby. I love you, and we can do this together. You and me, and the team..."_

_"But-"_

_"No, listen to me," Hannibal said and moved his hand to Face's chest, over his heart. "What's in here, Tem, is what matters. You're strong, and you're beautiful inside and out. You're an amazing man, Templeton Peck, and I love you. You can do this..."_

_Face started shaking his head, but Hannibal held it steady and gently kissed him, pouring everything he had into the tender caress. Face stilled and kissed him back, eventually pulling away with a smile and a renewed determination._

_And determined he was, and within a few days Face was more or less a new man._

"Gin!"

"Aw man," BA whines and throws his cards down as Face gathers up his winnings, an armful of Twinkies and Hershey's bars.

"Double or nothing?" Face offers and BA laughs, picking up the cards.

"You're on, Faceman!"

"You in on this, boss?"

"I'm in, Facey," Murdock chimes in between gulps of his own soda. "I need a chance to win me a midnight feast!"

Hannibal laughs and nods, tipping back his _non-alcoholic_ beer and just about successfully hiding his grimace. He thinks he'll have the soda next, too. The beer tastes like piss.

But he'll gladly drink it to support Face!

"Gin!"

"No way!" BA shouts when Face lays his winning hand down with a huge grin. "You cheatin', man!"

"No he ain't, Bosco," Murdock giggles, "'cause I been watchin' his cards!"

Face throws Murdock a shocked look, and then laughs at the silly face the pilot pulls, before yelping when Murdock yanks him into a full body hug, mumbling garbled words into the kid's neck.

Hannibal can just about make out, "God, I really missed you, Facey," and catches BA looking at them with a soft expression of affection on his face.

The room then fills with carefree laughter and Hannibal sighs happily. His team, his ...new lover, happy. The way it should be.

~

"Okay, me and the fool are gonna' turn in, bossman," BA announces when he finds Murdock dozing in his seat.

"You sure you don't want to sleep here?" Hannibal offers, but BA grins and flashes a quick look towards Face who's clearing away the cards.

"No, that's okay," he winks and Hannibal's eyes widen. BA plasters on an innocent look that Hannibal does _not_ believe for a second.

How the big guy knows, he'll never figure out, but he smiles anyway. Maybe it's a good thing he does. And if BA knows, then Murdock either already knows, or will find out soon enough.

"Take good care of him," BA nods quietly before lifting Murdock over his shoulder and carrying him out to his jeep. Hannibal nods back. He intends to take _very_ good care of his boy.

"Didn't they wanna' sleep here?" Face asks when Hannibal locks up for the night. The colonel grabs Face around his waist and grins, leaning in to steal a kiss.

"Nope."

"Oh, okay... so," Face grins back, "just you and me, hey?"

"Yep, just you and me, and a big bed," Hannibal nods, his hands sliding down Face's back and settling on his pert butt cheeks.

"Hmmm, sounds perfect, boss," Face murmurs before fitting their mouths together and kissing his lover deeply. "It's about bloody time."

Hannibal chuckles softly. Since declaring their love, they'd dealt with Face's issues, and this was going to be their official first time.

And Hannibal wants it to be beautiful, for his beautiful boy.

"C'mon, baby," he murmurs close to Face's ear, making him shiver delightfully. Face let's Hannibal walk him to the bedroom and smiles when he sees the candles already lit around the room.

"Aw, John, you going all romantic on me?" he grins coyly. Hannibal laughs.

"Only for you, baby."

They undress each other slowly, taking turns to shed each item of clothing in between deep, passionate kisses, and by the time they're naked, impulsive need ignites their lust and they fall on the bed together hard and desperate for each other.

"Oh god, John," Face moans as Hannibal grinds his groin into his lover's, throbbing cocks gliding together. He grips Hannibal's ass and lifts his hips. "Fuck! Want you... So good..."

Hannibal does it again, grunting when Face quickens his thrusts. "Tem, wait..."

"Wha'?"

"Slowly, baby," Hannibal urges and slides his palms down to Face's hands, lifting them off his ass and pinning them to the pillow by the kid's head. "Slowly. I wanna' _feel_ you," he murmurs softly and circles his hips. Face arches into the movement, a little breathless cry escaping his lips.

"John..."

"That's it, Tem, _feel_ me..." And he circles again, leaning in to capture Face's mouth in a deep, deep kiss. He can feel Face shaking with need and moves the kid's wrists above his head, into one large hand. "Feel me..." He continues to tease his young, eager lover as he fumbles under the pillow for the tube of lube he put there earlier, and deftly squeezes an amount on his fingers, ignoring the blobs that miss and land on the bed.

Face feels his mind focus on nothing else but the incredible sensations in his body each time Hannibal grinds down, and simply gives himself over to the pleasure. He's completely powerless to do anything else.

Years of loveless, anonymous fucks don't even come _close_ to what Face feels right now, and he gasps in pleasure at the idea that he's finally found his home. With the man he loves.

"You okay, baby?" Hannibal asks, lips hovering just above Face's.

"Oh yeah," Face answers... eyes, nearly black with pure arousal, opening and looking at his lover. "More than okay, John... I love you." 

Hannibal smiles. "I love you too, kid," he says and watches Face arch in ecstasy, moaning when Hannibal slides a lubed finger slowly inside him.

Face cants his legs open wider and tilts his hips. "Oooooh fuck... yessss!"

Controlling his breathing, Hannibal just about manages to stop himself coming at the deliciously sexy sounds coming from his lover. He adds a second finger and twists, searching...

"Ah FUCK! Yes! That... right there!"

...and finding. Hannibal strokes over Face's prostate again and the young man bucks, his already throbbing cock leaving trails of sticky pre-come as it bounces against his belly.

He can feel Face pull against the tight hold he has on his wrists, but presses them into the pillows even more, enjoying the control he has over his young lover.

"Going for three now, baby," he breathes and holds on when Face cries out as his ass is stretched around three of Hannibal's fingers.

"Ah god... God! Yes... I need you, John, fuck me... m'ready! Fuck's sake... NOW!" 

The desperate, lusty note in Face's voice goes straight to Hannibal's balls and he shudders hard, pulls out his fingers and fumbles with the lube again, awkwardly stroking the slick over his dick, praying that he can hold on... because as much as Face wants him... FUCK! Hannibal _needs_ to be inside his boy, NOW!

"God, Oh Tem... Need you baby, want you so bad..." he strains as he slides so deep into the most delicious, tight heat he swears he's ever experienced, it's mind blowing!

Legs wrap around his waist and Hannibal lets go of Face's wrists to lift those legs higher, almost bending Face in half as he leans forward to kiss him.

"Johhnnn," Face gasps into Hannibal's mouth, his breath hitching when the man pulls out and thrusts back in. Hannibal kisses the answering moan, swallowing it away.

"I love you, baby, love you so much, Tem... Feel so fucking good..."

"Ooooh GOD! Love... Love you... too... YES! Again!"

And Hannibal adjusts his angle and nails Face's prostate again, mercilessly teasing it until the young man cries out and comes. Hard. Explosively. Creamy fluid pulsing as Face frantically pumps his cock and coats his chest and belly.  
Muscles spasm around Hannibal's dick, making his eyes roll and it proves too much for him, and Hannibal's body jerks and he thrusts deep inside his beautiful boy, spilling his seed, marking him, claiming him...

Minutes later, they lie together, Face tucked into Hannibal's side, head on the broad chest, completely sated and sighing happily.

"That was amazing," he murmurs voice soft and awed. "Have I told you that?"

Hannibal laughs, "Yes, kid, you have." And he has, three times already. But Hannibal loves to hear it anyway.

"Well, it was. Amazing, beautiful... fucking awesome..." He looks up, his blue eyes twinkling in the lamp light. "I love you, John Smith."

Hannibal strokes a finger tenderly over Face's lips and smiles. "Love you too, baby."

Face smiles at the endearment, and asks cheekily, "You're not gonna' call me that in the field, are you?" 

Barking out a chuckle, Hannibal shrugs, playing Face's game. "I might. You have a problem with that, Lt Baby?"

"Hannibaaaal!" Face playfully slaps the man and they both laugh. "Seriously though," Face says after a moment, "what we're doing..."

"Is worth it. _You're_ worth it, Tem. Not going to give you up, never going to leave you," Hannibal finishes for him. And he means it, realising how stupid he was to think he could _ever_ have lived live without this.

Face sighs deeply, feeling completely loved and wanted, a feeling he's never really felt before, not even with Charisa, and he decides it's something he _really_ likes, and wants too.

Even more than the few stolen moments of solace he could find in a bottle.

"Never going to leave you either, John," he nods. "Did I ever thank you for giving me a life worth living?"

The lightness of Face's tone conflicts with the seriousness of the simple question, and Hannibal can read between the lines easily. And his heart still aches for his boy for the kind of life he's had to live, and he silently vows that Face will never have to live like that again.

He'll never have to find comfort, a few precious moments of peace, or a way to cope in a bottle again. No, he's here to provide Face with whatever he needs. That's Hannibal's job now.

He consciously pulls Face in tighter and tips his boys head up to see him. "Every waking moment I spend with you, Tem, is a moment I will cherish for the rest of my life, a life worth living that _you_ have given _me_." He stops Face from interrupting with a gentle finger on his lips. "Yes, you have thanked me for helping you through your problems... but I would've done that anyway. I love you."

Tears spill from Face's eyes and Hannibal thumbs them away.

"Live your life the way you want to live it, and relish every one of those moments," he smiles softly, adding, "and I hope those moments will include me."

Surging up, Face shushes Hannibal by kissing him, peppering his face with loving caresses before returning to his mouth again, and tenderly tempting it open with his tongue. They kiss for a while, tasting, teasing, until Hannibal shifts under his boy's weight and opens his legs to let Face fall in between them, their half hard cocks sensuously meeting in a heated slide.

Hannibal gasps and his fingers press into the flesh of Face's hips, leaving marks that Face would feel for days...

"Jesus, kid," he gasps again when Face rotates his hips and thrusts down. 

"Every moment... just like this one... Absolutely, John. Told you, I'm never leaving you," Face grins and slides his palms down to Hannibal's hands, lifting them off his hips and pinning them to the pillow by the colonel's head. "Slowly. I wanna' _feel_ you, John," he murmurs softly. 

Hannibal looks at him and smiles at the mirrored movements from earlier, and arches his body when Face circles his hips again, a happy breathless cry escaping his lips...

...and Face smiles back, thinking that this, right now, this is all he needs. Now he has this, Face knows he can cope with _anything_.

 

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
